is the still-stung song of un
-silence, the violence of things
at last felled and felt. This

is the holy
grail, the flail and fail
of fragment, some semblance
of storm strung
along. This

is the capital at the be
-ginning, the period……..(let’s make it three; ellipsis……………..eclipses reason) at the end. This
is the friendly breeze
stirring her soft, the gray
sky storing her sane,
the wet ground calling her
fullest name. This

is the way she breathes,
the place she knows how to be
-long, strong, staid. This
is the final………card…..played.